She Is Not My Step-Grandmother
by Barbie Shoes
Summary: "Even putting aside everything she's done," Snow began trying to reason with Emma, "to you, to this family, to this entire town! Putting all that aside, do you realize you are sleeping with your stepGRANDMOTHER?" – Inspired by GinnyGate2, and too many feelings. Swan Queen, Regina's POV. OneShot.


_A/N: This is my fic that was inspired by "GinnyGate 2." It's really not meant to bash Ginny specifically, a lot of its based in the same old arguments we've had for so long. But I put some of Ginny's words in Snow's mouth, and... Yea. I basically just needed to get some feelings out!_

_Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy and reviews are always greatly appreciated!_

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Emma's legs still straddled my hips, the weight of her gloriously naked body settled comfortingly over my own. This was my favorite part, holding her afterwards. I had never said so out loud, I wasn't sure how, but I think she knew.

Which isn't to say the sex itself wasn't good, too. It was. Mindblowingly so, in fact; without question the best I'd ever had. Part of me was ready and aching for round two, but the other part – that pesky, rational part – knew that we were already testing our luck as it was.

"Did you hear that?" I whispered, feeling paranoid.

"Hear what?" Her breath licked my neck, making me shiver despite myself.

"It sounded like a bump, or maybe a creak, I'm not sure," I replied, wondering if I wasn't just hearing things.

"This isn't your mansion, Regina," she smiled softly, lifting her head to gaze down upon me with those blazing green eyes. "It's an old building. It bumps, and creaks, and groans..."

She somehow made that sound increibly sexy, and my sense of reason trailed off with her voice as lips prodded my own with a rapidly increasing intensity. Her hips began to move against me, always subtly at first, and I knew there was a reason I had talked myself out of a second time a moment ago, but I couldn't for the life of me remember or care what it was now.

As if to remind me in the most painfully blatant way possible, a soft knock sounded on the door. The knock itself was nothing more than a courtesy, my blood barely having time to run cold with panic before the door was flung open wide.

"Hey, Emma... EMMA!" Snow White's voice escalated, resounding through the room while her daughter and I scrambled to find some modesty.

"Shit, shit, shit..." Emma muttered to herself, clawing at the sheets that neither of us could seem to gather about ourselves because we'd been laying on top of them, still tucked under the mattress in places and refusing to budge.

There was a reason we never did this here. There was a reason we always stayed at my place. That reason was now staring at me from the doorway with a look that said her only debate was whether to kill me quick or kill me slowly.

Not that she really could hurt me, though she certainly wanted to. I wasn't afraid of her, nor did I feel any remorse on her behalf. No, I didn't care about Snow White's delicate and fragile little feelings. I did care about Emma's though. That was the reason we'd been so cautious – up until now, that is.

With Emma and myself concealed under blankets at last, Snow finally snapped out of her shell-shocked state, pinning her daughter with an only slightly less murderous glare.

"Just what in the hell are you thinking?" Snow shrieked.

Emma leaned over the side of the bed, managing to retrieve her tank top and underwear.

"Oh, I don't know," she replied flatly, strategically wriggling her way into the procured articles of clothing under the blanket. "Maybe that I'm a grown woman who is capable of making her own decisions?"

"Clearly, that is not the case," her mother replied, the sincerity in her words causing anger to flare in Emma's eyes.

"Regina, we're leaving," she announced, throwing the covers off herself.

"As you wish, dear," I replied, and I couldn't keep the slight tone of gloating from my voice. Snow was glaring at me again, but I simply nodded towards her feet. "My dress, if you wouldn't mind?"

"I would mind," she said bitterly.

"For Christ's sake!" Emma growled, snatching the dress off the floor and tossing it to me. Snow continued to glare.

"I suppose there isn't much point in requesting that you avert your gaze?" I asked. Silent defiance was her only responce. "Very well, then."

Never having been one to feel ashamed or insecure of my body, I dropped the covers and stood. I chuckled to myself as Snow flushed and turned away, much as I suspected she would. Still so naive in so many ways, still so predictable.

"Even putting aside everything she's done," Snow began trying to reason with Emma, "to you, to this family, to this entire town! Putting all that aside, do you realize you are sleeping with your stepGRANDMOTHER?"

Every nerve in my body lit on fire at the sheer foolishness of her statement. My blood boiled from the heat raging beneath my skin. How dare she stoop so low! Luckily for Snow, her daughter remained cool, offering little more than a roll of her eyes to show her disdain as she, quite literally, hopped her way into her jeans.

"She is not my step-grandmother," Emma replied matter-of-factly. "She was _your_ step-mother. _Was_. Former. Past tense."

"No, Emma. Just... No!" Snow shook her head, horror stricken. "This... What you're doing, it's incestuous!"

"Seriously?" Emma cocked an eyebrow. "That's what you're going with?"

How Emma remained so calm when I could have merrily choked the little twat to death with her own scarf was a mystery to me. Did she not realize her mother had just accused us of being unable to define 'incest' for ourselves? Or worse – of being able to and disregarding it.

Perhaps she just knew the woman was grasping at straws.

"She is family, Emma," Snow hissed through gritted teeth.

"Oh really?" Emma scoffed. "So, you were planning on inviting her to the next reunion then?"

"You think this is funny?" Snow asked incredulously.

"No," Emma sighed. "But I do think it's a joke."

"I assure you, it's not."

Mother and daughter showed no signs of ceasing fire, and their battle was blocking my only exit. Not that I could really leave Emma to fend for herself in this fight. Moving aside a bit of dirty laundry, I sunk down into the corner chair. Even if I never said a word, I knew it was important to her that I stay. I had promised her that I would always stay.

"So, you consider Henry your brother?" Emma asked, seemingly out of left feild.

"Excuse me?" her mother shook her head.

"You know, your brother. Henry," Emma reitterated. "That must be how you see him, right? If you consider her to be your mother by marriage. Regina adopted Henry. She is his mother."

I had to force down a laugh that neither party would have appreciated at that moment. Not because anything was truly that funny, but I just couldn't help the sense of pride I felt for Emma then. She might be a 'good guy,' but she had a sassy streak that wasn't affraid to walk that thin line.

"Henry is my grandson," Snow replied gravely, turning towards me to spit daggers as she added, "and Regina is NOT his mother."

I lept to my feet without thinking, realizing I'd taken the bait as now it was Snow who smirked victoriously. My mouth contorted into a snarl, ready to spew venom back in her face, until a pale hand slipped into mine, comforting and soothing with just a gentle squeeze. I held my tongue.

"I see," Emma began dryly. "She's 'family' when it conviniently keeps us apart, but not when it tarnishes the image of the picture perfect Charmings. Am I right?"

"No, Emma," Snow huffed, clearly exasperated. "You're twisting my words–"

"You're twisiting the entire situation!" Emma cut her off, patience wearing thin at last. Seeing her upset, I simply couldn't stay quiet a moment longer.

"I never wanted to marry your father," I said, carefully keeping a level voice.

"No one asked for your input," Snow barked, and I could feel Emma poised to retaliate on my behalf, but this time it was I who calmed her with the soft caress of my thumb over her wrist.

"And yet, you shall have it," I demanded firmly, and Snow knew well enough to keep quiet now. "I wanted Henry. I want to be his mother. I never wanted to be yours." She actually looked like she might cry, and I passingly wondered if perhaps she was jealous, but it was really of little consequence. "You had a mother, Snow. And it wasn't me."

"An arraged marriage doesn't make a family," Emma chimed in again, having collected herself while I spoke. "Love makes a family. Regina loves Henry. I love Henry, and I love you," she paused, smiling sympathetically before delivering the final blow, "but I also love Regina."

My heart fluttered at her words. It's not as though I'd never heard them before, and they never failed to give me butterflies; but hearing her declare it now, so confidently, and to her mother of all people, it was like hearing her say it for the first time again.

Snow, on the other hand, had paled considerably.

"You... you love her?" she choked, looking as though she may be sick.

"I do," Emma replied, turning her head to offer me a shy smile. Seemed perhaps she still got butterflies as well. Just as quickly, she schooled her expression, turning back to her mother. "I know it's not the life you wanted for me, but it's my life to choose. I hope you'll learn to accept it, and be a part of it."

Snow shook her head slowly, not as an answer, but in continued disbelief.

"She tried to kill me. Several times," she persisted. "She tried to kill both of us."

"She also saved us," Emma replied. "I told you before, she is a woman who wants to change. I let myself be blinded to that once before, and it won't happen again. This is a fresh start for everyone. Including Regina."

"I can't condone this," Snow's voice trembled when she spoke. She knew she'd lost.

Emma took a single step forward, placing a hand tenderly upon her mother's shoulder as she told her, "You'll have to try."

With a light tug, she pulled me towards the door. I tried not too look too smug as I passed by Snow, though I highly doubt I was entirely succesful, and she did little to conceal her own disdain, anyway.

Not until we were safely outside did Emma allow me to see the tears rolling down her cheeks. My heart broke at the sight; never had I felt another's pain so fully as I did Emma's, and the slightest bit was unbearable.

Unsure what else to do, I cradled her face, kissing her lips while my thumbs wiped furiously at the streaming tears. She held on tightly, kissing me back hard. I tried to pour every ounce of strenghth, of compasion, of love into that kiss; everything I had, so she could take from me whatever she needed.

She pulled back, with stained cheeks and bruised lips, but she wasn't crying anymore.

"She has to come around eventually, right?" she asked me, so innocent and hopeful.

"She will," I nodded, and I meant it. Snow may have a great many shortcomings as far as I was concerned, but I knew she would never abandon her child, not even for this. If there was one thing the insufferable woman and I could agree on, it was that Emma was worth fighting for.

"Thank you," I continued, "for defending me to her. I know it wasn't easy for you."

Emma smiled, that goofy, doe-eyed little smile that was so earnest, so sincere.

"You, us, this relationship... It means everything to me. No matter what anyone tries to throw at us, I'll fight it." She kissed me again, sweetly this time. "Thank you, for staying with me in there."

I felt a rush of relief, and just a hint of pride, in knowing I had done right by her. I was getting better – it was coming naturally now, this 'being good'. I really was changing. Maybe one day I'd even be worthy of this woman and our son. I knew Emma believed I already was, but I couldn't help feeling I still owed her so much more. I'd do whatever it took to give it to her.

"Your parents may always find one another, but you'll never have to look for me," I whispered against her lips. "I'll always be there, Emma. I will always stay."


End file.
